the strange comfort of tethered spinning

the strange comfort of tethered spinning

(stream of consciousness post, written in one swipe) perspective, the things we take for granted, no, the things we take for normal everyday reality, the sun rising and falling, when in fact this is not the case at all, but how often do we notice, is gravity cheating us or treating us? for there is no real night, there is just the lack of sun in our sight, as if we ducked underground into a cave for some hours, that would be more the real experience, if we were to have to force such things, in a land that did not spin, as ours does, with our feet tethered to this ground, to this earth, anchored in the crust-harbor of our birth, able to roam the globe but never truly escape the motion, the spin, the dance, the do-see-do of our solar system, an orbital religion for we have faith this will always remain, truly in our lifetimes this will not change, we have developed a whole circadian system surrounding this almost artificial circumstance, what if by chance the world was not a top? would we have all flocked to the light side or live on the marginal borders deciding when to indulge night? or perhaps odder still might some of our ancestors lost all sight, too live in the cool darkness of perpetual night, or would our eyes become accustomed to the slightest light, from other stars, and what of the moon? would that young sibling remain clipped at our hip in the same way, a moon rising and falling in a night sky, a mere reflection of the sun’s rays, would the heat of perpetual day force the oceans to sway, to bend and flow to where there is less ambient heat?
the non perception, that is in a way baffling to the logical me, how we are just used to this most unusual circumstance, hurtling through space, spinning, tethered by unknown bands to the sun and other planets, driving about, walking around, jumping, flying, lying down, but all the while in perpetual motion, even if I close my eyes I can not feel the sensation, but here I am sitting still at my desk, writing, but I am traveling right now – flying through space on a rotating clock, maybe that is the force that ages us, the same one that hold us close – prevents us from ever real rest, as I breath in one breath and out the next, my breath has traveled through space and time, I close my eyes and try to visualize the the trail, with each exhale, I think I can almost feel the motion now…

notes… and we are a spinning… what do you think ? did this piece at least make you sit and spin on your own thing ?